So I'm driving to the Local Restaurant the other day, right around what could loosely be called rush hour. And as I get into an intersection downtown on Main Street in my booming metropolis, the light turns yellow, and the cars in front of me come to a rather abrupt halt, leaving me in that weird position where I'm too far into the intersection to stop, but not far enough that it looks like I should actually be allowed to go. When I looked to me left, at the traffic that would be coming toward me momentarily, I saw that the first vehicle in line was a horse-drawn carriage. Okay, so I'm going to go, because I'm fairly certain that those folks are not in a hurry or they would have chosen another mode of transport.
Traffic in front of me started moving again just as the light turned red, and I scooted through with nary a scowl from the other drivers. Whew. Next, I found a parking space almost directly across the street from the LR, which is fantastic because I am usually the last person out of there and it is usually quite late and quite dark at that time, and not having to walk very far by myself to my car is a plus. I pulled quickly into the space and started rummaging around for a quarter to put in the parking meter.
Emerging from the car, I was passed by the aforementioned horse and carriage, which turned out to be piloted by a pair of bedreadlocked hippies and adorned with a sign that read "Blah Blah Blah Farms, Somewhere in VT. Rides $$" I thought to myself that rush hour in the middle of the week was a bad time to be cruising around downtown, because not only were they unlikely to find anybody out looking for a relaxing ride, but also they were in the middle of a whole lot of traffic, holding things up and being a nuisance to other drivers. Not fostering a lot of goodwill, and generally not good business. As I said- hippies.
I immediately forgot about them and made my way back down the block to the crosswalk. I crossed the street and turned back toward the Local restaurant, strolling along with my head somewhere else (praying that a certain regular customer *cough* Town Drunk *cough* was not going to be in his usual seat at my bar) until I was brought back to the present by a loud bang and shouting. I looked up to the next intersection (about 100 feet away) to see Hippie #1 picking himself up off the ground, the cart, having come loose, flying sideways into the side street, and Hippie #2, dangling from the reigns, shouting at the horses to stop. The two horses had broken loose and turned 180 degrees, and were running in terror, dragging the metal (in front of and behind them) that should have held the whole thing together. They plowed directly into a parked car before coming to a stop almost in front of the LR. I was standing with my mouth open, totally in shock, next to another pedestrian (who, as it happened, also looked to be on her way to work at a restaurant). We both seemed to repeat the words "holy shit" about fifteen times before regaining enough sense to move forward and see if we could help.
"Do you want us to call anyone?" I asked Hippie #2 from a safe distance. He was holding both horses now, and trying to calm them.
"No, that's alright."
"Is anybody hurt?"
"No, nobody's hurt," he replied, after a cursory once-over of the horses. Hippie #1 was approaching from the other direction. Traffic was moving around the abandoned carriage as if nothing had happened.

The other Restaurant Girl and I turned and started back down the sidewalk.

"That was weird," she said, finally exhaling.

"Yeah- pretty fucking scary," I replied, turning into the front door of the LR.

I never did see if anything happened to the car.